


I bet my life

by Mellooh



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Drug Use, Eddie learns to live a little, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, IT was defeated the first time, M/M, experimenting, mostly POV Richie, munchhausen by proxy, set in current time because I'm a sucker for modern technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-11-07 13:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellooh/pseuds/Mellooh
Summary: Strange things did happen hereNo stranger would it beIf we met up at midnight in the hanging treeEddie learns to live in a world without Sonia Kaspbrak. A flip switched, leaving the group worried for their shortest member. When the experimenting starts, Eddie's past gets more and more clear as the Losers start to understand that Pennywise is not the only evil to have existed.





	1. Who knew?

The last day of exams is the day everything changed for the Losers. It wasn't the upcoming fear of college, the reality that they were all growing to be adults now. It wasn't even the coping with their new bodies - taller, thinner, bigger or harder (or an all-out mess when it came to describing Richie).  
  
It happened when their history teacher, mouth set in a firm line, called Eddie out of the last half hour of their final exam.  
The Losers, for a fleeting moment, worried if he had been caught cheating. However, this was _Eddie_, sock folding, flip-card writing and all-round nervous Eddie.  
None of them expected the flood of rumours once they were allowed out, all whispering the same thing.  
  
Eddie's mom had died of a heart attack early in the afternoon.  
  
  
They did not see their friend for the rest of that day.  
Not that they hadn't tried. They had each called, texted endless amounts of support, and in Richie's case - went up to his house and knocked until both his hands were sore.  
There was only radio silence greeting them, and it was jarring. The boy sighed, turned around and walked home, checking the messages his friends had left.

Sure, some may find it to be a little desperate to make a groupchat called “Where’s Eddie?”, but they clearly had not met the genius that is Richie Tozier yet.

**Bev****: ** _Has anyone heard from Eddie yet?_

**Haystack:** _Not me_

**Stan the Man:** _No, I have not heard from him either. He usually answers my messages._

**Mikey:** _What about you, Rich?_

**Richie:** _:(_

**Bev:** _:(_

**Big Bill:** _He’ll show up, guys. I needed time too, you know, when Georgie…_

**Big Bill:** _Give him time_

**Richie:** _It’s been 4 hours! Ain’t that time??_

**Bev:** _Rich. Just wait, okay? If he hasn’t answered by morning, we’ll drop by together_

After that, Richie had put his phone away and not looked at the messages for the rest of the evening. He had more pressing things to do, as it was. Like looking for Eddie at the quarry, the kissing bridge, the pharmacy, the park, all their usual hiding spots were turned upside-down.

  
When it eventually turned dark outside even he was forced to call it quits and retire home, where he locked himself up in his room to sulk.

~~~~

  
It was 3.48 in the morning when Richie finally received an answer to his texts.

  
**Eddie <3:** _Open your window, it's freezing out here_

  
By the time Richie was awake enough to read, understand and come into action it had been another few minutes. Nevertheless, he had scrambled up, fumbled with the lock and pushed the window open.  
Eddie was inside in seconds, had closed the window behind him, and then sprawled himself out on his friend's bed.

Richie had the surprising amount of kindness in him to send a quick message to the group that Eddie had dropped by and was seemingly doing well enough and was safe. After that he put the phone away and watched his friend move around the room with curiosity, rubbing the last of sleep out of his eyes, before pushing Eddie lightly aside so he could lay down in the bed next to him. It did not matter that it was a twin-sized bed and the both of them fit on it easily. Everybody knew that Richie Tozier was a cuddler™ and did not hesitate to come as close as you could physically allow.

“Eddie.” He whispered, tentatively reaching out to wrap an arm around his friend’s waist. “I came by, earlier. We’re worried for you.”

“You know you don’t have to worry about me.” Eddie muttered back in response, allowing himself to be engulfed by Richie’s larger posture.

Richie sighed, ready to start arguing that this was _not_ the time to push away. Yet, something inside of him just couldn’t do it, could not have a go at Eddie at this specific moment.

“What kind of idiot are you? We always worry, dipshit. That’s why we’re friends.” Richie replied after a moment of thought, instinctively pulling Eddie closer to his own chest.

Which, now that he thought about it, was bare. He had fallen asleep with only his pyjama bottoms on, too warm to bother about the rest. It allowed him to feel Eddie close, breath brushing over his skin, warmth radiating off of his own and towards the boy next to him. Then, the tiniest of shivers occurred.

“Fuck, Eds, you’re freezing. What the fuck. Where have you been?” He gushed, awkwardly trying to both hold onto the other and wrapping his lone blanket around them too.

“I told you I was cold. And don’t call me that.” Eddie replied lazily, his tone not having the fire that it usually had when he was annoyed about his nickname. “Hospital, home, funeral home. I – I had to get preparations going. Call my aunts and uncles. Set up the date for the funeral.”

Now that he said it, it made quite a lot more sense. Richie could hit himself for not thinking about looking in _those_ places. All he could imagine was Eddie, barely even an adult, shouldering such a burden on his own.

“Don’t even get started, Rich.” Eddie started, before the first questions could be asked. “Just go back to sleep. Please?”

“No.” He replied instantly, missing the surprised look on his friend’s face due to the lack of his glasses. “No, I won’t. You ghosted all of us, Eds. And then you show up in the middle of the night, expecting me to fall asleep and pretend as if nothing happened? Stuff happened. And you need to realise that I’m one of your best friends, I give a damn about you, and it sucks that you had to do this all alone. I – I mean, uh, we would’ve helped you.”

“Helped me how, exactly?” Eddie retorted as he wrapped the blankets tighter around them. “There was nothing for you to do, Rich. _I _don’t even know what to do.”

“I still could’ve been there, right? You just lost your mom, Eds, it’s fine if you ask your friends for help once. God knows you never do it normally.”

  
He could feel Eddie frown, the muscles in his face contorting, before he hid his face further into Richie’s chest. Clearly, he had won this battle. If only he would be able to win the war.

“Eds.” He continued, combing lightly through the boy’s (no, young man’s) hair. “Why did you come here? Why not Billy? He should know what’s up more than I would.”

“Because Bill didn’t know my ma like you did.” There was a soft laugh coming from his friend, and the faint shake of his head. “Even when you made those disgusting jokes, you knew she wasn’t good. Bill would be too damn nice. I don’t want nice. I want honesty.”

“Then that’s all you’ll get from me.” Richie promised. “We’re talking in the morning. I’m going to be that asshole.”

“Promise.” Eddie whispered back, already starting to fall asleep.

It took Richie a long time to realise that Eddie had not cried at all. By the time it hit him, Eddie was already fast asleep, the calm rise and fall of his chest a comfortable weight against his own. Richie indeed knew that the relationship between mother and son had been strained, though was never allowed to hear all the details. This, paired with the lack of sad emotions, was now a major concern.

Something was very, very off about Eddie tonight.


	2. The truth will come out, eventually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie allows Richie a glimpse in his troubled childhood and home life. Not everything has been said, but the foundation for a deeper friendship has been formed.
> 
> Aka: Sonia is a bad mother and we now know why.

It was early in the morning when the sound of Eddie’s phone woke him up. He groaned, recognising the song and knowing what was to come. Still, he picked it up and accepted the call, carefully making his way out of Richie’s arms and leaning his back against the cold wall. At least that way he knew he would stay awake, instead of falling back into a deep, warm sleep. 

“Bev, I appreciate your concern but it is seven in the morning.” He said softly, eyes trained on Richie to spot any signs of him waking up. Of course, that did not happen. Eddie should’ve known. Richie could probably sleep his way through a hurricane and come out of it with no scratches or idea what happened.

“Edward Kaspbrak how _dare _you not get back to me when I text you.” Beverly’s reply came instantly, her voice filled with more worry than annoyance though. “I had to find out from a 3 am text from Richie, of all people, that you were still alive! You could’ve just dropped a ‘oh hey I’m dealing with something I’ll get back to you shortly’ at the very least.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Eddie told her, pulling his knees up to his chest and leaning his chin on them. “Pretty sure I’m going to get the same speech from Richie later.”

  
“Wait, so you are staying at Richie’s?”

  
“Always the tone of surprise.” He smiled slightly; eyes glancing over Richie’s sleeping form once more. Thankfully still not awake. “I needed somebody who wouldn’t be too serious. I did plan to call you later.”

Eddie could hear the soft sigh on the other side of the phone, but knew that she had lost most of her anger by now. Beverly was too good for all of them.

“All of us are meeting up at Bill’s later today, if you want to come?” She offered, voice indeed lighter than it had been before. “I expect you there, though. We’re watching a movie and knowing those boys, it’ll be something dreadful.”

Eddie had to promise her a few times that he would come over and text the others that he was all right. Beverly finally allowed him to hang up and get some more sleep, her voice full with concern about how he was going to achieve that though. But then again, she had not known Richie for as long as he had. Eddie would be fine.

He did as he promised first, giving all of his friends a message that he had needed some time yesterday but would gladly see them this afternoon.

The morning seemed to go by in a bit of a blur. Eddie was sure he had slept for a few more hours in Richie’s bed, but he had no idea what he had done between then and the moment the two of them ended seated at the dinner table with scrambled eggs and toast.

A comfortable silence lingered between them for a few minutes, but then Richie put down his fork and leaned back into his chair.

“I think we need to talk about what happened yesterday, Eds.”

“How many times do I need to keep telling you that’s not my name, dick.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not your name, blah blah. Got it, _Eds_.” Richie replied easily, glancing over at his friend with the starting of a grin on his face. “But for real, before we get to the others I think we need to settle what the fuck is going on. Because I know you. And you did not cry at all last night. What’s up with that?”

Eddie slowly lowered his own fork, pushing his half-finished plate away now. His face had become a few shades paler and the lights in his eyes seemed diminished to faint sparkles. Clearly, Richie had hit the jackpot with his questions.

“What do you want me to say, Rich?” He asked, tentatively. As if he could do wrong (he could _never_, not to Richie). “Do you want me to admit I don’t give that much of a damn? That I don’t cry over my ma like I would’ve as a kid.”

“I at least expected you to be, you know, sad. Crying maybe. Not...”

“I’m relieved. That’s what I am.”

_Oh._

  
Richie pushed his plate away then, too, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. He and Eddie had occasionally joked about ‘Mrs. K’ and her weird antics, but never before had there been any reason to talk like this about her. Eddie had always loved his mother, even if she had been so overbearing. Always going on about her son being sick, needing this medicine and that shot to make sure he didn’t get any new diseases.

“What happened?”

Eddie grabbed his phone at that point, opening it up and tapping around for a few moments. He then laid it carefully on the table and turned it over, so that his friend could read the internet page that he had opened up.

“Mu – Munsh? Eds, what is this?”

  
“Just read and we’ll talk afterwards, okay.” Eddie replied, getting up to clear up their plates.

He was _nervous_, Richie realised, remembering Eddie’s need to keep his hands busy when things became a little tough on him. That had never seemed to change, no matter how old they had gotten.

Therefore, to prove he was a good friend, he would read this page and act the smartest about it that he could be.

> _Munchausen syndrome by proxy (MSP) -- or Munchausen by proxy -- is a psychological disorder marked by attention-seeking behaviour by a caregiver through those who are in their care._  
  
_People with MSP may create or exaggerate a child's symptoms in several ways. They may simply lie about symptoms, alter tests (such as contaminating a urine sample), falsify medical records, or they may actually induce symptoms through various means, such as poisoning, suffocating, starving, and causing infection._  
  
_Other possible warning signs of MSP include:_  

> 
>   * _The child has a history of many hospitalizations, often with a strange set of symptoms._
>   * _Worsening of the child's symptoms generally is reported by the mother and is not witnessed by the hospital staff._
>   * _The child's reported condition and symptoms do not agree with the results of tests._

Richie’s blood ran positively cold.

This was Sonia Kaspbrak to the very details. She always was so concerned about Eddie, dragging him to the doctor at least once every few weeks because he had ‘strange symptoms’ that needed to be checked out. And Eddie, who could bike faster than any of them could, needed his inhaler so often that it concerned all of the Losers. It did not fit.

How did none of them realise?

Richie read the text one more time, just to be sure that this wasn't some twisted lie of his eyes. Obviously, his glasses did not lie. This really was a thing. A disgusting, perverted thing that apparently happened. A lot. And if Eddie showed him this, after talking about his own mother, then that could only mean that this had been happening.

This sick game had been happening for 18 years, Eddie had just had his birthday, and none of the Losers realised. Hell, they had even made _fun_ of this exact thing on a regular basis.

"I feel like I'm going to be sick." Richie muttered, finally handing the phone back. While doing so he noticed Eddie's hands shaking, and he carefully linked their hands. Softly squeezing it, he glanced up over the rim of thick glasses, seeing the vague outline of his best friend.

"So did I feel when I figured this out." Eddie admitted, squeezing back. "I - I've known for a few weeks now. Didn't know how to tell anyone. You noticed I didn't take my medicine, I saw you look, but I just don't know /how/ you even tell others this. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Rich. But I did want you to be the first to know, and what a timing."

"How did you find out?"

The question itself was nothing out of the ordinary, yet what made Eddie look his friend over a few times is the way he had said it. Richie Tozier was, by all means, not known for his kindness and careful ways. He was loud and proud, and the Losers loved that about him. But those five words were said with so many unspoken emotions, some of those still foreign to the both of them. It was as if Richie's life had turned upside down as well.

"Remember when I went to the doctors after school, a few weeks back, because you squirted fucking glue in my eye? I got to chatting and asked for my medical records, just because I was curious. I had no idea what the fuck I was allergic for and I wanted to start prepping for college."

"It was then that I realised there wasn't any fucking allergies out there that I have. None. No asthma either. When I got home I started looking up what that meant, obviously, and found that webMD page. And it fits, doesn't it? It fits perfectly with how ma was. I called the doctor back last week and they were going to start an investigation. Guess I can get that stopped now. 'S not as if it matters now. She never knew I figured it all out."

Richie slowly got up from his chair, tugging Eddie up as well. Once both upright, long arms wrapped around a short statue, squeezing them tight together.  
Eddie took longer than usual to respond, slowly laying his hands on Richie's lower back. There was unmistakably a new bond formed between them and the secret they now carried.

Throughout the hug, Richie could not stop wishing Sonia hadn't died, that she could have seen her son finally stand up against her. Richie would have been there, of course, right beside Eddie as they would confront her. Years of medication, doctors’ visits and not being allowed outside with friends would finally laid before her, showing her what she had ruined.  
Eddie could've been a regular nerdy kid just like the other Losers, not the hypochondriac that he was known to be, that could name a rare disease and it's four even more rarer symptoms as if it was the most usual thing to know.

"Come on, get your teeth brushed and we'll go see those movies at Bill's." Richie offered, letting go of his friends and turning him towards the stairs.

"And afterwards I'll help you figure out the rest of your shit, hm? No need to do that alone now."

Eddie nodded slightly and then walked up the stairs, his hand grabbing the railing a bit too tightly. White knuckles stood out against the dark wood, making Richie wonder how tan he could get Eddie this coming summer – now that he was clear to go out in the sun without getting skin cancer. He was gone in a flash, and only when Richie heard the running of water from the sink did he allow himself to falter.

His smile was gone, face pale, the glimmer in his eyes being one of pure horror and hatred. And still he knew that this was not all. Having known Eddie for most of his life, he knew that there was enough being kept behind. Kept under the figurative rug until this first shock had passed. Even when it came to his own misery, Eddie still tried to keep it as easy as possible to get to grips with it.

But Richie would get to the bottom of it, whether it was accepted or not. Nobody hurt Richie’s friends and got away with it, nobody.

Now that Eddie was out of the room, he could send a message to the group at large. Followed by another, kinder one, to Beverly. Because she was the only other one of the group he could actively see murder a person without remorse.

**Richie:** _So it’s a good idea not to mention yesterday too much to Eds. Can’t get into details, but it’s fucked up. See y’all in 30._

**Richie:** _Bev, if his ma wasn’t dead I’d do it for her. Give Eds a hug. I need a smoke, see you outside of Bill’s in 30?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise chapter 3 will be a bit lighter than this, guys!  
For those who want to know more about münchhausen, please do consult proper medical and psychological sites or books. The internet these days has a lot of fake/wrong information and as somebody who works at the A&E of a big hospital, all I want is for my readers to be well educated too!


	3. Maybe we’ll survive when the storm begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why tell the sick they're sick?  
Do you think they don't know?  
Don't complain about your scrape  
You're obsessed with your own  
You cower from nothing,  
they fear something real  
Now, how big do your problems really feel?

The warm rays of sunshine beaming down on him could not compare to the sound of Eddie’s laughter, his _true_ laughter. The kind that he could not contain or diminish, usually only coming out when Richie finally landed a joke just right to entertain his small friend.

  
Such an occasion it was this time. It wasn’t even one of his funniest jokes, really, he had made some good ones earlier that month to Beverly that had her howling. No, it had been rather simple, something about Ben’s new-found courage to ask their redheaded friend on a date. Nevertheless, Eddie seemed to be enjoying it. Enjoying their time together.

After Eddie had come back from brushing his teeth, they had not spoken a word about their previous conversation. A pact was made that morning. A promise to take care of each other, to be honest. Richie had not felt such strong a bond before, not even with Stan – whom he had known the longest of them all.

Instead, they had packed a few belongings and grabbed their bikes. Bill would be waiting for them.

The first person to see them coming was Beverly. The redhead stood on the porch outside, cigarette forgotten between her fingers when her eyes finally focussed on Eddie. The boys barely had time to park their bikes when she had brushed past Richie, grabbing their other friend in a quick hug.

It was fleeting, a wrap of the arms, a kiss of the cheek, and then she easily dropped her smoke and tugged them both inside. Richie wanted to interject, wanted that smoke he had mentioned earlier, but the sight of Eddie following her left him rendered speechless.

If only he knew _that_.

“Mike, start that movie up, will you?” Beverly called out happily, pushing the door open with her foot, not once letting go of her two boys. “These two decided to _finally _show up and I want to see what this ‘Wonder Woman’ is all about.”

“You’re going to love it.” Ben exclaimed, giving Richie and Eddie a wave from his position on the sofa. Bill was already sitting in the nearest comfortable chair, Stan filling the one opposite of it. Their usual spots, it seemed.  
So Rich dropped himself down on the sofa too, with Beverly in the middle. Eddie sat down on the ground in front of him, Mike in front of Ben.

“Strong woman who kicks ass, story of your life, don’t you think?” Eddie said, glancing up at Bev. She, in return, eyed the group suspiciously. They did not usually pick a movie to benefit the others.

“Who picked this, again?”

“I did.” Stan interjected, giving a bit of a shrug. “The woman playing her is Jewish. The story itself is compelling and hopefully do the comics justice. I have shown you those before, Beverly. I am sure you will enjoy them, if you ever decide to read.”

This satisfied her enough to lean back, tension falling from all the other Losers too. Nobody would admit it out loud, but Beverly was a frightening sight to behold if she ever did go tired of _her boys_, as she affectionately called them. Seeing her satisfied cleared up a chance for the group to enjoy this activity together.

It came to no surprise that by the end credits rolled over the screen, Beverly wanted nothing more to follow up this movie with ‘Justice League’.

They ordered pizza’s, deciding that they might as well turn this into a marathon. They had no school tomorrow, no curfews. It was just them, laughing and commenting on the silliest things they could think about. Like Batman being a bit of a dick, on Mike looking a bit like Aquaman himself, on the whole group of them agreeing that actor who played the Flash was rather hot.

By the time the group had moved on to their fourth movie, straying from DC over to Marvel territory by going for the newest edition of Spiderman, the group had lolled down.

Stan had fallen asleep during Aquaman, movie three, and nobody had dared to wake him up after that. It was common knowledge that one did not fuck up Stan’s sleep, no matter how much you would need him. The wrath that he would bestow on you struck fear in the heart of many men.

Ben and Mike had, to no surprise, also fallen asleep. They were not the biggest fans of these movies, and thus could not keep their concentration peaked like other Losers could. It didn’t matter though; they were still there. All friends had showed up.

Richie glanced down at his legs at one point, having felt the familiar weight of Eddie press a little closer to him. The boy had been leaning against his legs and knees for a while now, after complaining that sitting up straight had been straining his neck.

Eddie’s head had fallen back a little bit, more onto Richie’s knees. It was unmistakable that he too had succumbed to his dreams.

The dark-haired boy smiled slightly and reached out, gently combing through Eddie’s hair. It had become a little longer than it would usually be, he realised. There was a lot more to go through. It reminded him of Eddie himself, about the layers upon layers that he was going to unfold now. Richie did not treat promises lightly. And promises he had made, at the least to himself.

_Protect this boy. At all costs._

“Rich?” Beverly’s voice was soft, clearly intended to keep the sleeping boys asleep. “Please, what happened?”

At her words, Bill turned around as well. One glance between Richie and Eddie, helplessly asleep on the floor, seemed to be enough for him. They were not backing down.

“I – I can’t say for sure, Bev. Knowing Eds, he hasn’t told me even a quarter of what’s going on.” Richie started, trying to ignore the tug at his heart. All of this was not his secret to share, after all.

“All I know is that his ma might as well have a spot in hell next to your dad.”

The spark of recognition in Beverly’s eyes said enough, she knew _exactly_ what Richie was hinting at. Her eyes settled on Eddie too, letting the silence ring on for a few more moments. But when she looked up again, something seemed to have changed within her. A force of nature, Ben had called her, and now Richie fully understood why. There was indeed no mistake of the murder in her irises. The want to rip apart any last source of displeasure. It was a look that he most likely had been sporting not too long ago, when first learning about Eddie’s true life.

He had been right about her.

“H-Huh-How did we not n-notice?” Bill’s stutter rang in the air around them, and Beverly quickly sat back. It was clear she had not meant to be this, uh, passionate.

“Why would we?” Richie interjected. “We all knew his ma was weird. But who’d even think any further than that. I’ve thought the exact same since this morning, Bill. Wondering why the fuck we didn’t get him out there or noticed anything. But what would we have looked for?”

Richie swallowed, checking once more that Eddie truly was asleep. God, his hair was so soft, fingers sliding through it a little more. It was a source of comfort.

“I think... I think Eddie kept a lot of it from us. Remember how Stan used to be like that? Not telling us when he got bullied in class, or when they threw slurs at him? I think it’s that. Shame, or something.”

“Fear.”

All three of them quickly looked over at Stan, who stretched himself out lazily. They had not noticed him waking up. Otherwise Richie clearly would not have mentioned him, everybody knew that those topics were not to be discussed with Stan. He did not want to hear. Did not want to know. It was taboo.

Stan clearly had to have seen the confusing and worried looks of his friends, for he sighed and leaned forward a little. Clearly, he was part of the discussion now.

“It was not shame I felt. It was fear. Fear of what they would do next, how much further it would go. I agree with your comparison between the two of us, Richie. We are very much alike in that way. If Eddie kept secrets, it has been for the exact same reasoning. He was afraid.”

“Well _fuck_.” Richie muttered, his free hand tugging some hair away from his face. “He lived with that bitch for eighteen years. Eddie is already afraid of everything that exists. You’re telling me he lied about being afraid?”

“He is brave.” Beverly shot back at him, resting her hand lightly on top of Richie’s arm. The arm that still tried to hold onto Eddie, onto the safety of his friend. “He has always been brave; you know that Rich. When – When we faced It, he was brave. He faced all of his fears for us then.”

“He was sp-spuh-sparing us.”

The awake members of the Losers group looked over to their unofficial leader, to the twisted smile that lay on his lips. They all knew what he was saying. Why he was saying it. But accepting it as the truth was a lot harder.

The idea that Eddie, terrified, worried Eddie, had been _sparing_ them. It was so wrong. Yet, it made so much sense.

“You mean that he didn’t want us to worry, right?” Beverly asked, to which Bill nodded. “That Eddie didn’t want us focussing on him, when we all had our own things to worry about.”

“I want to hate him so much for doing that.” Richie groaned. “But fuck, that’s so _Eddie_.”

“We’ve always known that. He showed up with his arm in a cast to help us kill that crazy clown, after all. Eddie walked into that for us. Even though he knew what it would do to him. And he helped us all afterwards too, I can’t recall if I ever asked him if he was coping with it? I was so busy, with my father leaving and my aunt coming in his stead.”

“His mother was _furious_ when he came back. I think she held him inside for over two weeks. I remember going over there after a week and a half, she cursed at me and shoo-ed me away. Fuck, if only I’d tried harder to get to him back then.”

Richie stopped talking after that, frowning in worry. Now that he thought about it, it had been weird that Eddie’s mother had been _that_ tough on him. He had always known that he was not the politest boy around, or the cleanest, but Eddie had always referred to him as one of his closest friends. Yet his mother had taken one look at Richie and declared him unfit. Hell, she had declared all of Eddie’s friends unfit. Not even Bill, who usually got the best reaction out of parents, had been deemed an appropriate friend.

“Do we talk about it with him?” Stan asked the group at large, nodding his head to their sleeping friend. “You’ve talked to him, Rich. What do you say?”

“I – I think it’s best to let him do it.” Richie settled on his answer after a few long, thoughtful moments. “We won’t get anything out of him if you force it.”

“Then it’s s-s-settled.” Bill said, clapping his hands together lightly. “Now tuh-tell me, Rich, have you kissed him y-yet?”

Beverly let out a laugh at that, quickly clasping her hands in front of her mouth as to not wake up their friends.

The tension from the group bled out, as they all proceeded to tease Richie. It did not help that he still had his hand up in Eddie’s hair, but by now he was too invested to take it away. The Losers could think what they wanted to think, he did not care. They all knew he wanted it. Well, all but Eddie.

“Shut up, asshole! You know you want these puckered lips on yours as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and summary are from the poem "The calm before the storm" by Herman Hoyte
> 
> I'm working on a Spotify list with songs that remind me of Reddie - if anyone wants to listen it's called "Reddie 2k19" and my username is Melloohh. Do give me more songs, I especially love those that you can use in fics :)  
Also to be found on Tumblr! Now known as melloohh95.
> 
> Feedback would be greatly appreciated, with a BIG thank you for those who have read and commented so far. You guys give me so much happiness <3


	4. So he opens his throat to sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The caged bird sings  
with fearful trill  
of the things unknown  
but longed for still  
and his tune is heard  
on the distant hill  
for the caged bird  
sings of freedom

The sky had turned its lovely shades of dark red, fading yellow and deep purple by the time the Losers were tired of watching movies. Half of the group was still asleep, but those awake did not want to end their slumber quite yet. Instead, they ordered pizza’s, knowing one another’s preferences from years of spending time together.

Once seven different pizzas found their way into the kitchen, all members were up and running again. Plates were distributed, knives and forks handed out to those who did not like to make their hands dirty, and Bill raided the fridge to grab them a beer. If he was surprised that Eddie, notorious no-alcohol advocate, grabbed one, he did not show it. None of them tried to look too much at it, but Richie still saw the glances thrown around when Eddie could not see them.

  
It was no surprise that they focussed on Richie, expecting him to say something about it. It was common knowledge for the Losers that Richie took it upon himself to keep Eddie safe, even if it meant a risk for himself. If Eddie lost his shit about something, Richie would be there to calm him down. Richie might be dubbed the Trashmouth of the group, but everybody remembered who he learned all those words from. Angry Eddie? A sight to be feared. Small but feisty, and only controlled by the one person who was deemed un-controllable.

It was an intricate friendship, based on trust that none of the other Losers quite dared to give. Richie knew that he could stop in front of a speeding car, and Eddie would pull him back. Eddie in return, knew he could get infected with the worst illness he could think of, and Richie would nurse him back to health. Why else trust him, that one time his arm got broken? The two boys worked together like the moon and the waves of the ocean, pulling and pushing at one another, switching roles effortlessly – working in a synchronisation that none knew how to explain.

Perhaps he should have said something, this time.

Not for himself, he knew that he could drink a few beers and be relatively sober when coming home. However, Eddie clearly had no idea how to hold his drinks or when he should be stopping himself.

It didn’t help either that they were playing ‘Never have I ever’ after their pizza’s, shots of beer in front of them. It was the strongest alcohol in the house, besides wine. Since none of the Losers liked that, this would have to do.

“Never have I ever kissed a boy.” Beverly called out, raising her own glass with a wink.

Nearly the entire group raised their glasses with her, muttering ‘cheers’ before downing the beer quickly. It was not that delicious after a few of these rounds. Richie glanced around to see Ben not having lifted his glass, which was expected. Mike too did not seem to be drinking.

_Wait._

Eddie’s glass was empty.

Richie had to do a double take of it, but the shit-eating grin that Bill sent his way said it all. Eddie had kissed a boy. It hadn’t been Richie, that he knew for sure. He would definitely remember kissing his best friend. So, who was it? Was it one of them?

“Looks like our most innocent Loser is into more than we thought.” Mike spoke up, giving Eddie a wink. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Oh, shut it.” Eddie replied, taking his now re-filled glass from Beverly and leaning back against the couch. He looked more relaxed now than he did the whole day, alcohol clearly having taken the edge off him. “We all know Stan is the most innocent, when it comes to it.”

Richie let out a laugh at that, leaning forward slightly. Normally he would tease Stan about it, but the redness of his ears combined with the fact that Richie _knew_ he was not that innocent, refrained him from doing so. Instead, he took the time to process the new facts he was learning about his friends. There was so much that they apparently did not know yet. Like how Bill, Bev, Ben and Eddie had taken a shot to the question about who had a current crush. Alternatively, the surprising reveal that Stan was no longer a virgin, which Eddie and Beverly had missed due to a toilet break.

“Nuh-Never have I ever lied t-to my parents.” Bill asked the group, grinning as they all took another shot. Seven. Richie had had seven now. He knew he should stop before ten, if he wanted to take Eddie home safely.

“Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy about somebody in this room.” Mike then proclaimed, giving Richie a side-eye that was almost like a smirk on its own.

Again, most of the group drank. But Richie’s blood ran cold when he noticed Eddie raising his glass too, from the corner of his eye. No word was spoken about it, but his heart was beating like a lunatic. Yet he knew he had no right to ask. Eddie never responded well to such questions, after all. Knowing what he did now, Richie could not help but wonder if his mother’s influences had something to do with that. If she had stirred something in him to keep silent, keep hidden.

He could tell that Beverly had taken a special interest to this knowledge too, she looked Eddie up and down and her lips trembled with the desire to ask. They exchanged looks. He blushed and ducked his head out of the way, ignoring the laugh that he drew from her.

She knew him too well.

Next to him, Eddie put his glass down and stretched himself out. His cheeks were slightly flushed from all the alcohol, eyes a little cloudy. It was a relief to Richie that the other boy confessed that he wanted to stop now, before he became too drunk.

“That’s fine, Eddie.” Stan replied, in that understanding and kind voice he tended to use for him alone. “I think we all better stop soon. My parents won’t like it if I come home reeking of alcohol.”

“Do you mind walking me home, Rich?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side just enough to make it look cute.

“Nah. Let’s get going, I don’t think my parents will be too happy if I get back after curfew again.”

Richie ignored Beverly’s looks as he got up and helped Eddie to his feet, the smaller boy stumbling only slightly. For somebody who never drank, he was keeping up with it surprisingly well.

They said their quick goodbye’s, Eddie giving all the Losers a hug, then let themselves out of the house. No need to get Bill to help them out when he was having so much fun.

The cool breeze outside was refreshing, helping Richie to sober up a little more. Beside him, Eddie was glancing at the ground the whole time, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket.

“Penny for your thought?” Richie jokingly asked, giving the other a light nudge.

“Hmm? Oh – sorry Rich. Just thinkin’ about stuff.” Came the hasty reply, yet still no glances upwards. Odd.

“No need to say sorry to me, Eds. Just let me know if something’s up.”

“I don’t feel so good. Not... Not the alcohol, that’s fine. In general. And I was wondering if maybe your ma would be okay with it if you stay over tonight? Not that I want to force you, or anything. I just don’t know if I want to be alone?”

Richie looked down at Eddie, fumbling, soft-hearted Eddie who did not dare to look up at him right now. It was clear that he was nervous, biting on his lip a bit rougher and _oh_ how Richie wanted to just grab him and make it all go away.

It was not his place. Nor his time.

“Yeah... Yeah, we’ll ask her. It’s fine, Eds. I’m sure ma won’t mind me staying over. It’s not as if I’m around much at home anyway.”

He carefully wrapped an arm around the other boy and squeezed him close, beaming when he felt the other’s arm wrap around his torso. This, he thought, was the good life.

Eddie felt warm against his side, almost radiating. He was leaning slightly against Richie, a sign that he was more intoxicated than they would both admit him to be. But it still did not matter. Richie knew that he would be helping him out no matter what, no matter when. Eddie was too important.

They arrived at the house relatively soon, Eddie letting them in and locking the door. The house was awfully quiet, without Mrs. K around to bitch about one thing or another, or her awful shows running on the television. Eddie excused himself to freshen up upstairs, leaving Richie call to his mother.

She was, understandingly, not too happy about this turn of events, but after mentioning enough times how _lonely_ Eddie was, she relented. After telling his mother that he loved her, Richie quickly hung up and ran up the stairs.

Eddie was already in his room, still in his regular clothes, lying on his bed like a deadweight. It was an adorable sight to see him like this: Eyes closed, mouth slightly open, tousled hair and still the persisting flush on the cheeks. If Richie knew better, he would look away.

He obviously did not do so.

Instead, he took his shoes off at the door, closed it gently, and padded over to his friend. Normally he would give a shove, teasing and playing around. Their day-to-day communication existed mostly about such gestures, mixed with the occasional kind word to show that there was no animosity in the air. It was clear that Eddie was not in the mood for that, acting much softer now. Any usual day, Eddie would not allow himself to act so vulnerable. Not even to Richie, who was used to climbing through his window in the dead of the night, if Eddie ever had a bad day.

Richie just lifted the covers and moved in to lie together in the bed.

“Is this okay?” he asked, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s torso and pulling the boy flush against himself, practically spooning him.

Eddie nodded and rested his hand on top of Richie’s, whose heart made a summersault. He wondered if Eddie could feel it against his back, the loud thumping seemed to fill the silence in the room. If he did, he never mentioned. A soft squeeze was admitted to his hand, and Richie let out a confused hum.

“What’s up, Eds?” He asked, the ghost of his breath against his friend’s ear. Oh damn, they were so close. Too close. It felt _so_ good.

“I think I have to tell the Losers.” Eddie whispered in return. “About my ma, I mean. I saw them starin’ at me, and whisper behind my back. Will – Will you help me?”

“Of course, Eds. Whatever you need.”

Eddie hummed lowly, completely forgetting his usual snide remarks to being called ‘Eds’ again. Fatigue washed over Richie as he held his friend like this, the minutes passing by too fast. If it was up to him, they would never stop holding one another like this. The rest of their lives would be filled with warmth and the smell of Eddie’s cologne.  
However, this was not a fantasy world.

“You’re the bestest, Rich. So glad I have you.”

Richie could not help laughing at that remark, hushing Eddie when the boy tried to turn around to face him. No way that he would allow this special moment to be broken. It was so cute, how Eddie only seemed to see the good. Sure, he was drunk right now. But all the Losers knew that Eddie was a softie at heart, hidden behind a thick wall of brick and fire.

“Go sleep, Eds. You’ll be sober in the morning.”

“I don’t want to be sober. You don’t cuddle sober me.”

Richie hummed a little at that, bending his free arm awkwardly so that he could mess with Eddie’s hair. It was still so soft, so easy to comb through lazily. Of course, he knew that Eddie was right, yet he still made the boy wait for his own reply. He had to try and think this through and doing so while being drunk is quite the impossible task.

It was true that Richie held back during their usual time spent together – always worrying that his actions would draw too much attention. Ever since he had realised the feelings he felt for his smaller friend, it had been quite the struggle to not over-do himself, out of fear to push him away. Yet he had not known that Eddie cared so much about it. When it was the two of them, there were of course still some touches: Casual brushes of fingers against legs, playful wrestling on the floors, or a simple boop on the nose to draw up attention. Rarely hugs. He loved hugs, always craved them and longed for the warmth other bodies brought, it was just different with Eddie now. Hugging the crush of your lifetime was not the same as hugging one of your close friends, who is in love with somebody else entirely.

“Never thought you wanted the Tozier hugs, Eds. With how much you pushed me away.” He finally replied, closing his eyes tightly. This was going too deep.

“Did want. Don’t know how to ask. Nobody else hugs me like that. Like I’m important.”

Richie stayed quiet for a long time after that, weighting this confession in his mind. Eddie explaining that he wanted to be hugged was a revelation on its own. But adding in the low self-esteem was enough to break even a grown man’s heart.

Eventually, soft snores brought Richie’s attention back to the matter at hands. Eddie had fallen asleep in his arms, not having had the energy to wait for a reply. Or perhaps he had taken too long with thinking, for once.

After making sure Eddie was, in fact, asleep, Richie leaned forward just a smidge more. Legs pressed together, tangling together at the ankles, arms draped around one another. Eddie still had his own hand on top of Richie’s, and it did not look as if this would be changed.

Richie leaned in just once more, pressing chapped lips just behind Eddie’s earlobe. It was short and sweet, but held so many emotions all at once.

“You’ll never have to ask again, silly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and summary are from the poem "Caged bird" by Maya Angelou.
> 
> Next chapter is going to include the funeral and more talk about the (abusive) relationship Eddie and his mother had. Who can guess the reaction each of the Losers will have to that news?


	5. Innocence swept away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innocence is dead, replaced  
Solemn days, no surprises  
The sun shines over cold flesh  
A warm heart beats, needing joy

Two days.

It had been only two days since Richie had woken up with Eddie in his arms – sleeping as if he had not a single care in the world.

Who would have thought that a boy so young, had so many worries on his face already? He had not realised. Not until that faithful morning, the throb of his hangover looming behind his eyes. Eddie had still been pressed up against him, and his face. Oh Lord, his _face_.

For the raging ball of fire that was Eddie Kaspbrak during the day, he was completely different when resting.

Richie should have known this already, of course. The boys had sleepovers and naps together all the time; since they were young it had been usual for them to be together at all times. However, it hit different this time.

Perhaps it was the knowledge of the weight that had always been on Eddie’s shoulders, or the realisation that he wanted Eddie to be a bit more than a best friend these days.

The words from last night came up in his head again. _Nobody else hugs me like that, like I’m important_.

How could Eddie think that he was anything _but_ important? Was he really that insecure on the inside?

It gnawed on his insides, the idea that Eddie did not see what he himself saw. That he could not understand just how important he was not just to Richie, but to their group of friends as well. How an integral part he held in their dynamic. How, when he was locked up inside again, the group just did not feel the same.

Plans welled up in his head, he would have to run them by the group though. They would have to do this together. For Eddie.

And oh lord was Richie whipped. Whipped, and very much in the friend zone.

So, he did what he did best: Running as far away as possible from his feelings and pretending they did not exist at all. Acting as if waking up with Eddie so close to him meant nothing more than what it seemed on the outside – just two friends needing comfort. If being friends was all he was going to get, it would be his greatest pleasure still.

Richie did not see Eddie those two days, not until they were both in suits and ties. Normally he would laugh at the idea of such formal wear, especially for a woman who he despised so much as Mrs K. But he was asked by a pair of soft, brown eyes to ‘please, just this once’, so he obliged.

Eddie looked handsome in his own suit, but Richie could not help noticing that he was wearing a light pink tie instead of the usual black one. That would be a question for later.

He was standing with Beverly now, talking quietly, hands waving in every direction. It was a nervous tick, he knew. When Eddie had too much stress, he tended to wave his hands as if to shake it all out. Richie was quite sure the boy did not realise it himself, but this was the easiest way for the Losers to pick up on stress. It was also the only one the Losers knew.

There was a reason why Richie was the go-to guy when the other Losers couldn’t place what was wrong with Eddie.

They rarely saw the lip biting when he was worrying about himself versus the biting on his nails when it was about one of the other Losers, or the slight hunch in Eddie’s shoulders when he felt anxious. They had no idea that when Eddie was about to cry, he would twist his face a certain way, nor noticed the way his hand twitched when he was on the brink of a panic attack – as if to press down on an inhaler. One he did not need. Never needed.

“And here I thought Eddie asked for none of us to come.” Richie hummed, sliding over to his friends with ease.

“As if I’d listen.” Beverly replied easily, giving Richie an approving nod. “Nice tie. At least one here knows what black is.”

Richie chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then moved over to Eddie. He did not care about the whispers of family behind them, as he wrapped the smaller boy in a quick hug. It was over soon, but Eddie’s hands had dropped. Good start.

“I still don’t get why you two did come. Well, I knew Richie couldn’t be stopped. But you, Bev? Et tu?”

“Eddie, dear, I really don’t see why it’s such a bad idea for us to be here?” Bev then asked, her brows frowned ever so slightly.

Richie snorted, earning a weary glance from Eddie and a confused one from Beverly. He knew very well why none of the Losers were there. If it wasn’t for Eddie needing to be here as her son, he would’ve had them all be in the quarry by now.

He zoned out as Eddie started rambling about his family, he knew this. Eddie’s mother had not been, uhm, _sweet_ so to say. More like she could be qualified as a bitch. She hated Mike because he was black, hated Stan for his faith, hated Bill for his stutter, Ben for having some baby fat (pot, kettle, black) Beverly for being a boss ass bitch (and generally being a girl), and Richie obviously for his bad mouth.

Her family was exactly like that.

As he looked around now, he could see some of them glancing back at them. They were not discreet in their judgement either, from Richie’s whole appearance to the short, black dress Beverly was wearing. She looked stunning, even at a funeral. And they all resented her for it.

Wasn’t it pathetic? A group of mature women, whispering to one another about a girl that ad only just reached her adulthood.

Then again, the only sane person in Eddie’s family was Eddie himself. And he did not qualify as ‘sane’ to most either.

“I think it’s starting now, guys.” Eddie suddenly spoke up, giving them both a tight smile before joining his aunt in the front row.

Beverly and Richie took place together in the far back, where no other family was sitting. It was a mutual decision, neither of them wanting to be too close, yet not wanting to leave the church until Eddie did. For them this was not out of respect to Mrs Kaspbrak, but to their life-long friend and fellow Loser.

As the minister started to talk, so did Beverly. It was hushed, yet even if she spoke clearly, they would not have heard her. Too focussed on what happened in the front.

“He hasn’t looked me in the eyes even once. Not even when I told him about dinner at Mike’s. You’re coming too, right? He’s setting up a campfire and all, bless him.”

“Hmm, yeah, I’ll be there.” Richie answered, his eyes darting between Beverly and Eddie. He could not keep focus. It was too much. “Eds needs me, obviously. Wouldn’t trust you guys to deal with him if my life depended on it.”

“I had to come.” Beverly leaned her head on his shoulder. He, in return, wrapped an arm around her small waist. “It felt so wrong to let him go through this alone. He’s always been there for us. Did you know he’s memorised the week of the month where I need chocolate most? Or how you must physically hold him back whenever somebody makes fun of Mike, Stan or Ben again. Or the fact that he’s been helping Bill with speech therapy this last year, so that he can go to college without worries. I had _no_ idea how much he did for us all, not until I really thought about it. And I feel as if we know nothing about him in return.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know either.” But then, he turned curious. “Hey, what’s he doing for me that you just realised? Cause I can’t figure it out for the life of me.”

Beverly shot him a funny look at that, her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. After a few more seconds, her features softened and accompanied a deep sigh. She looked almost resigned. As if this was the exact wrong question to be asked.

“Oh Rich, how can somebody so smart also be so stupid.”

Richie rolled his eyes and looked back to the front, where there was a loud murmur now. Family members were allowed to stand up and say one last good-bye to Sonia, it seemed. He saw Eddie, front of the line, with his small fannypack in hand. For a moment he wondered what the hell was going on, but then he realised that Eddie, bless his heart, had placed it inside the casket.

He really just _did that_.

Next to him, he realised, Beverly had seen the exact same thing. The confusion was there on her face. She did not know. Of course, how could he forget? How could he be so stupid? None of their friends knew, as of yet, what a horrible mother Sonia Kaspbrak had been to Eddie. How she had hurt, manipulated and twisted lies around during his entire life.  
He hoped that she would keep her mouth shut.

Beverly did not keep her mouth shut.

Richie had hoped for once that he had been right about something, they had managed hours without the subject coming up. But now, late at night around the campfire, had to be the moment where she casually brought it up again.

It had been very casual, just a small remark about how Eddie’s watch had not beeped for his nightly medication. And how she now realised it had not done so in a while. How odd that had been, but how nice.

It had gone eerily quiet after that, as all conversations abruptly stopped, and all focus lay on Eddie. Eddie, who, moments before, had happily been in a conversation with Ben about a new band the latter had found. Eddie, who now turned to Beverly with confusion and hurt in his eyes.

This was not the plan. This was not the time. Oh lord, what had she done. What had she _done_?

“Bev. Stop.” Richie warned her, hissing low under his breath. She heard him though, but so had Eddie.

Eddie’s brown eyes slowly clashed with his own, he saw the way his face contorted. How those soft hands had a slight tremor to them.

“You saw, didn’t you?” Eddie asked, voice harder than expected. Even he himself seemed taken aback, but only for a moment. “Shut up. Bev. Just shut up.”

“That’s not nice to say, Eddie.” Ben interjected, frowning slightly now. “She only asked something.”

Richie had slowly moved from his position next to Stan, going around the campfire to take a spot next to Eddie. Why had they not been sitting together already? This was stupid. This whole thing, nothing but stupid. He should have never moved away to talk to other people.

“And it is _none_ of her business, Ben!” Eddie had spat back, only furthering the anger around the group.

“Eds.” He said slowly, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Boy was he tensed up now, it was a surprise no muscle had torn itself to shreds just yet. “Eds, they’re just worried. If you just explain it to them. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay! It’s not going to _be _okay. For fucks sake, Rich, you know that!”

Eddie’s breath hitched, became more laboured. His right hand twitched, Richie in return reached out and linked their hands together. Squeezing ever so slightly. Trying to ground his friend. He knew that the other Losers were staring at them by now, worried as could be. It did not happen often that Eddie would suffer a rough attack, and usually he would have taken his inhaler out and taken a dose already. To see him like this worried everybody. But he wondered if their heart broke into hundreds of pieces, just as his did right now.  
  
“You don’t need the inhaler, Eds. It’s just a panic attack. You can pull through it. Breathe with me, okay?”

No answer.

“Eddie. _Look_. At. Me.”

Richie felt rather bad for snapping at his best friend, especially in a moment like this. But he had to keep Eddie out of a full panic attack, not knowing how that would end. Without his inhaler, even if it was a placebo, he might not pull himself through. The last time that happened, he had passed out and not woken up until nearly eight minutes later.

But he did look up this time, wide eyed and teary. And it made Richie so grateful to know that even during this, Eddie had complete trust in him.

“It’s over now. She’s gone, it’s all over. You don’t have to worry about it again.” He soothed, rubbing patterns on Eddie’s hand with his thumb. “You told me already, didn’t you? And nothing bad happened. You can tell them too. These people defeated a killer clown with you, remember? We can defeat this too.”

“R-Ruh-Richie. He needs his m-meh-medicine. Where is it?” Bill asked from somewhere behind him, worry clear in his tone.

Richie looked expectantly at Eddie, who looked all the more terrified. He mouthed the words ‘killer clown’ once more, for good measure. Something changed in his friend’s eyes after that. Courage. That was it. It was the same change in looks when he decided to go into the house Neibolt house with them, when he decided that one battle against Pennywise was more than enough.

“It was all fake.” Eddie whispered, still staring up into Richie’s eyes. Drawn to each other like a magnet would.

“What do you mean?” Stan asked tentatively, coming up on Richie’s right side. “What was fake, Eddie?”

“The medicine. The being sick.” Eddie swallowed, and Richie could finally feel him squeezing back. “The _fucking_ everything! She lied about my whole damn life.”

The group stayed silent for a long time, trying to make sense of this new information. Richie too, stayed awfully quiet. He was honestly just relieved to see his friend being honest, even if this was not how he had wanted to go at it. Even if there was no turning back now.

“I can’t do this, Rich.” Eddie whispered, finally breaking the spell between them by looking away. “I need to go. Please.”

“You can, Eds. You’re doing just fine right now. You told them the beginning; they’re getting it. Baby steps. One word at a time.”

Eddie shook his head, grabbing with his left hand for his phone. He all but thrusted it in Richie’s chest, as if it was burning him. And Richie knew what he wanted. The page. The one that had explained to _him_ what was going on with Sonia and her parenting debacle. It was not how Richie had hoped that Eddie would start to talk about it, but he accepted.

He typed in the code (0307, he still had to figure out that meaning), sliding the phone over to Stan once he had opened it to the correct information.

Stan took the phone and, being the fastest reader of them all, took only a minute or so to read it through. He looked slightly sick to the stomach as he passed it along to the rest.

Free from the weight, the Jewish boy moved closer and wrapped his arms around Eddie. This must have been the first time Richie actually saw these two friends hugging, but it was nice. Eddie looked relieved, leaning into it more and more. And Stan, oh Stan. There was a reason why Richie liked him so much.

One by one, the fellow Losers joined in, wrapping an arm around Eddie or resting a hand comforting on his body. There was nobody left untouched.

There were no questions asked, complete silence surrounding the Lovers. Yes, that was not their usual name, but it fitted. Just like it had fitted on Eddie’s cast those years ago. Right now, their group was filled with love and comfort, practically radiating off of them. There was no need to talk, that could be done at a later time. All that mattered now was Eddie. Who had just buried his mother, who had incidentally been his abuser for about eighteen years. Who had still cared about his friends more on this day than about himself. Who seemed about ready to pass out from either a lack of oxygen, or the heat from the hug.

Eddie glanced up at Richie, from in between the pile of humans that he loved so dearly, showing the ghost of a smile laying upon his lips.

A déjà vu crept up on Richie, as he once again wished to connect them to his own, to kiss Eddie like he had never kissed another human before, or ever would in the future.

This feeling felt like going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and summary are from the poem "Loss of Innocence" by Casey Stewart.
> 
> I tried really hard to not rush this chapter, but to give it the right set of emotions as well. I realised that I had to do the group talking about Sonia in a chapter on it's own, it would just be too large if it was all in one. So you guys have some more angst to look forward, as I do to write it.   
I also did not want to dwell on the funeral for too long, since I write mostly from Richie's POV, it made more sense that he would not pay attention - for he had Eddie to keep an eye on. Also - writing funerals hurts and brings back bad memories, so there's another reason to skip it as quickly as I could.
> 
> Thank you for reading, my dear friends <3


	6. I gave it like a secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I loved thee, though I told thee not, right earlily and long  
Thou wert my joy in every spot, my theme in every song
> 
> And when I saw a stranger face, where beauty held the claim  
I gave it like a secret grace, the being of thy name.
> 
> And all the charms of face or voice, hich I in others see  
Are but the recollected choice, of what I felt for thee

If Richie had hoped that it looked subtle, how he was sliding over another of his s'mores to Eddie, he had been nothing but wrong. Eddie clearly did not mind, though. Instead, the boy kept shooting grateful looks at each bit of food that was passed towards him.

The Losers were sitting closer together by now, having listened to Eddie talk all while starting to make their late-night snacks of choice. Mike was still roasting a few marshmallows, Ben packed them up in chocolate and biscuits, and Bill helped passing them around to the bulk of the group. Richie, Beverly and Stan stayed as close to Eddie as he was comfortable with. Stan even having decided that just this once, sitting on the grass was worth it to be close to one of his dearest friends. He had voiced these thoughts, yet he did not expect how touched Eddie truly was by it. Another hug had been shared.

Now, questions flowed slowly from the group towards their smallest Loser, who did his best to answer. So far, he had only declined three of them. And it was fair that he had not wished to do so, they had been rather personal. For a boy that shared remarkably little about his private situation, even agreeing to do his best to answer was a plunge in the deep end of the pool of life.

“Has she ever hurt you, Eddie? Your body, I mean.” Beverly asked him, resting her hand kindly on his arm. Richie knew why she asked, understood her need to know this. Eddie had no idea that she had experience with a parent abusing you in such a way. That was all Beverly’s story to tell, when she was ready for it.

Eddie did not answer her question just yet, clearly musing it over in his head. But the shift in his eyes, the  _ fear _ , it said enough. The sharp inhale of breath that came from their friend was enough. It was then that Eddie spoke up.

“Whenever I was bad, in her opinion, she’d drag me inside and up to my bedroom. I remember one time, I wondered how much more she had to squeeze to break my wrist. It was so painful. The next day I actually did break that arm.” He looked up at Bev, lingering, searching her face for something. Richie had no idea if he found what he was looking for, Eddie continued to talk before any of them could see. His mouth going miles an hour. So he was more nervous to talk than he led on, it seemed.

“She pushed, she pulled, among other things. And all of that shit was my own fault, she’d say. I was being a bad kid, running around outside and getting myself messed up. Respectable kids that listened to their mother did not do such stuff. Good kids would stay away from it all. Yet, even if I did, it wasn’t good enough. I was  _ never  _ good enough.”

Richie allowed himself to move even closer to Eddie, wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders. He could feel the weight pressing against his side almost instantly, a sign that the hug was two-sided. It was a good feeling. A comfortable one at the very least.

“Do you understand that you are, Eddie?” Stan cut in, looking up at his friend from his place on the ground. “For me, and for us, you have been a good presence. You listen to me talk about birds, even if I know it does not interest you as much. And I was very thankful you came with me to listen to the male purple finch’s singing, earlier this year.”

“Wait -” Richie interjected, snickering ever so slightly. “You telling me that Eds and you been birdwatching? That’s so nerdy. God, Stan, you sure you weren’t born into your body early? You’re like an old man!”

“Shut up, Rich.” Stan replied easily, waving his hand at the bespectacled boy. “Before I forget to mention this, I also appreciate how you would text me after service, just to see if I needed anything. Nobody else has done that, save Richie and Bill replying to me the few times I reached out. You did that all yourself. I think we all have stories like mine.”

“B-Buh-But Eddie, what about your inhaler?” Bill asked, from his place near the fire. It reminded Richie that, even though the boys were busy, they were not neglecting what Eddie finally told them. It made him rather proud. Their group really,  _ truly _ , cared for one another.

“Fake.” Eddie sighed out, after an adorably tiny bite from his s’more. He even wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand, the little shit.

“That’s what hurts me most. I’ve been swallowing pills for years, and none of them actually did shit for me. Most of them had sugar in them, save for the ones to help me sleep at night. Of course  _ those  _ had to be real. I - I literally lived all of my fucking  _ life _ thinking I couldn’t do certain shit. Only to find out she just didn’t  _ want _ me to do that.”

“Oh, Eddie.” Beverly whispered, wrapping her arms back around him once more into a tight squeeze. “None of this is your fault, sweetie. I get it now, why you put it in the casket. That was a brave thing to do today, love.”   
  
Richie could do nothing more right now than watch his group of friends react. For once, he tried to keep his mouth firmly shut. Eddie did not need to hear his lewd comments or quick witted jokes right now. What he needed right now was kindness, hugs and probably to hear that he was not as fucked up as he thought he would be.   
It broke Richie’s heart, to be fair, to hear Eddie talk about himself like this. The small boy looked even smaller right now, small and oh so tired. If Richie did not know any better, he would expect this boy to be severely depressed and anxious. Perhaps he was.   
That was something to keep an eye out for.

“You’re a lot stronger than you think, Ed.” Mike chimed in, putting the poker he used for his marshmallows down and leaning back. “I don’t think I could’ve gone through what we have, and still go home to that.”

“Yeah!” Bill chimed in. “And you’ve got the b-buh-best friends here for you, if you need us. We’ll help.” 

Eddie nodded and gave his friend a faint smile, taking a s’more he was offered from Stan without complaints. Richie could see that he was thinking, his face scrunched up in concentration. He instinctively pulled the boy just a little more closer to himself, enjoying the warmth that burned the left side of his body.

Richie could feel the faint buzzing of his phone from inside his pocket, but did not take the time to look at it right now. He could already see it was Stan, typing away on his phone at an alarming speed. After a few more buzzes, he put it back down, glancing at Richie’s leg as he did so. Hint gotten. He would check it later.

Instead of checking why Stan would be messaging him - especially since they were sitting so close together - he kept full focus on Eddie. Mike had just asked him a bit more about the treatment he received from his mother, and the boy was clearly upset as he spoke.

Even though he was certain that Eddie did not tell them the full truth; what he managed to explain to them was heart wrenching and disturbing enough to haunt Richie’s dreams for a while. 

He sat through five minutes of Eddie explaining what it meant when his mother did a ‘body-check’ on him: She really did look at every inch of his skin, to look for ‘disease’. It really was a way to humiliate Eddie into submission, the boy said so himself.

And if that was not enough, Eddie confessed to his friends that he would be threatened into being grounded for more stupid reasons than he had given the Losers.

“This one time - she didn’t let me go to the Quarry with you guys, because she knew Beverly would be there.” Eddie groaned out, sliding a hand through his hair. “She thought I’d be ‘tempted’ and decided I could not go out for another week because I sassed back.  _ Fuck  _ I hated her.”

Beverly couldn’t help but let out a laugh at it, shaking her head. She easily leaned her head on Eddie’s shoulder, offering him a sense of comfort.    
  
“Oh honey, if you wanted a piece of this, all you had to do was ask!” She squealed out, earning laughter from all of the Losers. They all knew Eddie was not interested in her, not like that.

Eddie smiled and wrapped his free arm tightly around her for a few moments, allowing them to have a side-hug. After that he seemed to lean a lot more heavily into Richie, though, if the burning of  _ his  _ side was anything to go by. Since when had Eddie’s hand been laying on his upper thigh? This was new, right. He would have realised sooner if Eddie went for something so intimate, right.  _ Right?! _

“Can we please stop talking about it now?” Eddie asked softly, glancing around at his group of friends. “I trust all of you with my life, but this.. It’s not pretty. And I’d rather not - not right now.”   
  
“Of course, Eddie.” Beverly interjected, before anyone could say otherwise. “Just remember that we’re here if you need us, okay? One text or call away. Us losers stick together.”

  
  


The Losers stayed close together for a while longer, conversations starting at random and lulling to a state of tranquillity in a fashion that was not uncommon to them. But one by one, some of the group decided to head inside the house for some much-appreciated sleep. Beverly and Ben had already moved, and Stan looked as if he was about to do the same, when Eddie offered to walk back with him.

Richie glanced down at the boy in his arms, then over to Stan, and back again. When Stan agreed to this offer, he sadly removed himself from Eddie’s warmth. It fell cold instantly. An iced knife pressed against his body.

“Goodnight, guys.” Eddie muttered, giving a tired little wave to the remaining Losers. He then followed Stan, staying close by.

With both Eddie and Stan gone, Richie finally allowed himself to check out his messages, rolling his eyes ever so slightly. Stan and his ever proper way of texting. It was so much like him, but so unlike their age group. Such an adult.

  
  


**Stan the Man:** _Looks rather cozy over there._

  
**Stan the Man:** _When will you tell him, Richard? It is nauseating to watch the two of you._

**Stan the Man: ** _ You are my friend - and though it pains me to type this out - I do wish to see you happy. It also will make you stop texting me at 2 AM because of something Eddie said. It is a win-win scenario. Do something. _

  
  


Richie debated for a second, but then started typing his replies. He should not have been surprised that Stan answered within seconds, keeping up a steady stream of texts. 

  
  


**Richie:** _Stfu, man. i’m keeping these lips shut_

**Stan the Man:** _How, may I ask, do you think you will manage? You can physically not do so._

**Richie:** _RUDE :( _

**Stan the Man:** _Tell him, Richard. The boy looks miserable. The two of you are going to give me a headache soon._

**Richie:** _Look we’ll talk tomorrow, kay? I ain’t doing this now. Not with all this shit going on! Eds deserves better_

**Stan the Man:** _Has it ever occurred to you that, mayhaps, Eddie does not want anything else? Think it over. You will meet me for breakfast at 8.30, and we are discussing this._

  
  


Richie read the text messages over a second time, but sighed. He put the phone away again. Knowing that with it, he kept his secret for a little longer. The conversation with Stanley, the next morning, would be a rough one. But he was not going to confess.

The chances of ruining their friendship were too high. It was a risk he could not take.

  
  


He would probably take these feelings to his own grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem by John Clare.
> 
> This chapter has been a small insight into the things Eddie had been facing for years.   
Expect more to come in the future, in a small dosis. Because while I love sadness, and I love writing it, I feel like I cannot portray it properly? 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments, please. I really appreciate the feedback <3


	7. Everything that isn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel everything  
that isn't there.  
I think everything  
that isn't true.  
I try everything  
that isn't me. 
> 
> I wish you knew  
how scared I am  
when you try  
to save the me  
who isn't here.

Early the next morning, at 8.30 sharp, Richie and Stan were seated for breakfast. They were the only ones of the Losers up at the moment, even Mike seemed to sleep in during this rare day off from working on the farm.

The pancakes Stan had made smelled absolutely delicious, yet Richie took great trouble in eating. He was nervous. With Stan, you never quite knew what to expect. One moment he could talk kindly to you, the other he would know just how to hurt your deepest emotions. It was a gift and a curse all in one. 

“Okay, just say what you wanna say, Stan. I’m dying up here.” Richie finally called out. At 8.34. 

Four minutes of silence, save from the cutlery that was working steady on the stack of pancakes on Stan’s plate. That was all it took to completely freak Richie out. He really wanted this to be over with, not knowing what to expect. Sure, Stan knew  _ everything _ of Richie that there was to know, and he knew that Stan did not mind; but he could not stop worrying that one day those feelings would change.

Meanwhile, Stan finished his first pancake and put his knife and fork down. He glanced curiously at Richie, but then smiled faintly.

“You seem perfectly healthy to me, if not anxious.” Stan replied smoothly, to Richie’s annoyance.

“I just wanted to know why you’re still keeping up the pretence that Eddie does not like you back, Rich. And the reasons to why you haven’t asked him out on a date yet. Now, I know that you keep telling me that he would, for a lack of words, deserve better. But frankly, I call bullshit.”

“Stan!” Richie gasped, trying to fight off a grin. “Watch that sailor’s mouth of yours around my pure, childlike ears.”

“Oh bite me. The point is, Richard, that you are an oblivious fool. But you are  _ my _ oblivious fool, thus allow me to say that you need to get your shit together and start dating the boy already. I don’t care how many times I need to tell you, I’ll do it, because I don’t like seeing my best friend unhappy when it’s entirely preventable to feel this way.”

Richie glared up at Stan for a moment, but felt his resolve weaken. How could he ever be mad at him? Stan was his best friend, and he always did his best to make sure all of his friends were cared for and positive. For Stan to talk about Eddie like this, it gave him  _ hope _ .

“Stan, I wanna believe you buddy, I do. But how can you be so sure? We don’t even know if Eddie’s into guys, for fucks sake! He never talks about shit like that.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re always made jokes about his mom.” Stan interjected, giving Richie a deadpan look.

“Oh shut it, he knows I’m just joking. I hated that woman.” Richie replied just as easily, taking another bite of his pancake before continuing on. “No really, man. I don’t think he’s into guys. So why would I ever risk our friendship? I’m not stupid. The fact that we can discuss this so easily is literally only because you’ve known since I was, like, nine.”

“And I have had to listen to you whine about Eddie ever since. Rich, please. Do you really think he treats you the same as the rest of us? Because that’s a hard no. He practically lays down all over you at any chance he has, always touching and prodding. That’s not normal friend behaviour, even for us: that’s flirting. Blatant fucking flirting. And you seem to forget our lovely game of Never Have I Ever? Where Eddie confirmed he has kissed a boy? Sounds gay to me, or at the least bisexual.”

“Oh  _ shit  _ I forgot about that! Who do you think he kissed? It sure as hell wasn’t me. Was it you, Stanny boy? Did you steal my man from me? No, no I bet it was Billy, that fucker.” 

“Richie, kindly do shut up.” 

Stan was smiling slightly as he spoke, showing that their conversation was to continue freely as it had before. The boys shared a smile at that point, before the both of them burst into a fit of laughs and giggles. It was nowhere near funny, really. They weren’t making  _ fun _ of Eddie. Just the thought that germaphobe Eds had subjected himself to kissing willingly was something they could not quite wrap their heads around. 

“Try to talk to Bill then, if you won’t talk to Eddie. They’ve been friends for the longest time, surely he knows what’s up.” Stan then offered, as he stood up. He did not go far, only moving to fill up two cups of coffee for them.

“If I talk to Bill, will you leave this the fuck alone after that?” Richie interjected, rolling his eyes. He did, however, graciously accepted the warm beverage. “Can’t a man pine after his best friend in peace anymore these days? Where’s the world gone to!”

“Stop being a basic bitch, Richie.”

“Stanley Uris! The audacity! How could you.”

“Again, shut up. You do realise that I’m only saying all of this because I care, right? I know we do not always mention that, but I do, and I apparently have to tell you  _ again  _ because you just don’t get that I’m not bullshitting you here. I would not be this adamant about it. I would never hurt you on purpose.”

  
  


Richie was about to answer when his phone started buzzing, blaring the first notes to Single Ladies. Beverly. He grabbed it and picked up without thinking, but frowned almost immediately. Wheezing noises could be heard in the background, as Beverly started to talk rapidly.

“Rich, I need your help. It’s Eddie. He’s.. Well.. Fuck I think he’s in a panic attack. I don’t know what to do here, he’s not responding to me at all. One moment we were talking, and the other he just.. He zoned out completely, and his breath picked up. And you  _ always _ know what to do and please come up here. Please, please, please.

“Give me ten seconds, I’m coming up.” He said, disconnecting the call and standing up. “It’s Eds. I gotta go.” 

It was barely an explanation to Stanley, but there was no time for more than this. The boy understood, though. Eddie was always going to be a priority to Richie, whether they liked it or not. 

  
He took the stairs two at a time, sliding the phone into his back pocket as he went. The second door to the left was the room where Eddie was staying in for the night, he knew as much, since his own was right next to it. 

He slipped inside and was met by a sight that broke his heart. Panic attacks were always painful to watch, because in the end there was no way that Richie could stop them. He knew what to expect, yet each time, it broke something inside of him.

Eddie was curled up to himself, arms wrapped tightly around the knees he had pulled up to his chest. The wheezing that was heard through the phone had come from him, breath too shallow and going at a far too fast rate for him to keep it up much longer - soon enough the overload of oxygen and lack of carbon dioxide would make the boy pass out. Beverly was in front of him, but she gladly moved aside to allow space for him. She looked almost as scared as Eddie did, and it took until now for Richie to realise that none of the Losers had ever been there when Eddie had one of his worst attacks. It was always Richie who came to help him. Then again, Eddie was the one making those calls. He sought out Richie all by himself.

It was the look Eddie’s eyes that always broke something inside of Richie; Those big, brown eyes he loved staring at. The fear that took over was nerve-wracking, no matter how many times he had seen it by now. Because Eddie was  _ brave _ , even when he thought that he was nothing like that. He was brave to stand up to Pennywise, to stand up to his friends, to his mother. He was even brave enough to continuously stay at his ‘home’ and live with the fact that he would always be talked down to by his very own mother.

“Eds, I’m here.” He whispered, sitting down next to Beverly now. His hand automatically moved to slide through Eddie’s hair, combing it almost lazily. “You know you gotta breathe. Do you remember the exercises?”

“Chee?” Eddie gasped out, eyes focussed as they shot up to meet him. Richie could not help but smile, he  _ really _ liked that nickname.

Neither of them knew exactly when Eddie had started with it, but it was sacred between them now. Whenever it was just the two of them, and Eddie felt particularly kind, the nickname would come out. It was, without a doubt, Richie’s favourite nickname to have ever been given, and Eddie was the only one to call him by this. None of the others heard that name, as of now that is. Because Beverly definitely heard it this time around. It was okay. If Eddie needed this, then he would be fine with it too.

Richie hummed slightly in answer, his free hand placed firmly on top of Eddie’s linked hands now. He started to tap his finger in a slow, steady rhythm. A gentle reminder for Eddie to count, think, breathe along with him. It was a technique they had worked on for too long now - but it worked. Five taps of the index finger, inhaling. Followed by five taps with the middle finger, exhaling.

And as long as it worked, Richie would be content to repeat it over and over. 

“What happened?” Richie asked, glancing sideways to Beverly to show her he meant it to her.

“We were just talking, really.” She sighed out, eyes darting between her friends. “About what’s next, where to go, all of that shit. I asked him about college, since he still won’t tell me where he’s heading. And next thing I know he’s freaking out and ends up like this! He completely zoned out and I decided to just call you, since you calmed him down yesterday.”

Richie tutted and turned his focus back towards Eddie, who was trying to follow Richie’s instructions. His face was red and slightly blotched, eyes glassy due to the tears pooling in the corners. He could only imagine how he must be feeling right now: the way Eddie had described it to him once had made him quite scared to ever fall into such a panic himself. 

The feeling of not being able to breathe anymore, gasping for what isn’t there. The pins and needles feeling that settles in once you start to hyperventilate, which only will get worse due to the rough beating of your own heart. After those, your head will feel funny. Once, Eddie had passed out due to it all, waking up minutes later with no recollection of what had happened. Those minutes had been some of the worst Richie had ever experienced, even compared to facing Pennywise. He would rather fight a hundred clowns than to see Eddie like that again, with no certainty when he would wake up again.

“You’re doing great, Eds. Just keep breathing like that.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to say something, for a moment his snarky  _ “not my name, asshole” _ flashed in Richie’s mind, but the moment passed. Instead, Eddie seemed to have shifted his focus away from them again. Rich noticed the behaviour easily, having been there for so many of these now. The hand going through Eddie’s hair moved away from it now, to tilt his chin up slightly, forcing him to keep focus on them and not on his thoughts.    
Next to him, he could feel Beverly shuffle awkwardly. 

“It’s okay if you’d rather go, Bev.” 

“I’ll stay. I don’t want you to feel alone, Eddie. We got you.” 

For all it was worth, this had to be one of the sweeter moments Richie had had with Beverly in the last few months. She was a kind person, if she wished to be seen as such. Eddie visibly seemed to relax more and more, his breathing starting to even out into what was considered ‘normal’. Small hands uncurled from around tightly held knees, he could feel the wiggle of toes against his own leg.  _ Good _ . This was all a good sign.

He opened up his arms by instinct, and Eddie replied. Those small hands were on his back now, and he could feel Eddie trying to squeeze himself close. His own arms wrapped back around him as well, once again a hand in his hair and the other one now on the small of his back.

It all felt very intimate, especially with Beverly watching the two of them interact. When he glanced up at her, though, she seemed too caught up staring down at Eddie. And he understood why. For the Losers it still seemed as if the two of them were bickering and fighting most of the time, as if perhaps they didn’t truly like to be around one another. But their friendship and bond were so much stronger than any of them thought.

Then again, they just didn’t know better. They didn’t see the nights where Richie would sneak out of his house to visit Eddie. Or when they would be on the phone for hours at a time, just talking about whatever came to mind; sometimes when Eddie fell asleep, Richie stayed on the phone a bit longer before disconnecting, listening to him breathe peacefully. 

Beverly tentatively reached out, rubbing Eddie’s back in broad circles. When he did not object, instead nuzzling closer to Richie, she finally dared to let out a sigh. Her demeanor changed, becoming more sure of herself and the situation they were in. 

“I’m so sorry, Chee.” He could hear faintly, from somewhere against his chest. Eddie had pushed himself so far that it felt as if he talked into his shirt. 

“It’s okay, I got you, Eds.” Richie muttered, resting his chin on the top of the smaller boy’s head. “We got you, just relax and breathe. No need to worry anymore.”

He knew what it must look like right now, the two of them curled around one another like this. As lovers embracing one another, sharing a sense of comfort. If only that could be the truth. 

They continued to hold Eddie like this for what felt like hours, but which had probably been less than twenty minutes.   
The boy seemed to have fallen asleep around the twenty minute mark, as Richie had expected. He didn’t move Eddie around though, knowing that he was still able to wake up in these early stages of slumber.

Instead, he focussed on the padding of socks on the stairs, coming up. It was unmistakable that this was Stan - he was the only one who would go out of his way to wear socks only inside of a house. There was no knock on the door, but it did open and close. 

“Is everything alright now?” Stan whispered, crawling up on the bed to sit close by Beverly. His eyes were on Richie, flickering down to Eddie when noticing his subdued form. “I’ve asked the others to stay away for a bit. Figured you guys might be here for a while”

“You can say that.” Bev muttered, taking her hand back from Eddie’s shoulders and placing it down in her own lap. “I think Rich here got some ‘splainin to do. Or can I call you Chee too, now?”

Richie knew that she was teasing him, that it was just a way to get rid of the tension in this room. But he didn’t like it when she used that name. It was Eddie’s, not hers. Not of the Losers. And perhaps that was rather selfish, it was just a  _ nickname _ after all. But it held something unspoken and sacred. Sometimes when he heard it, he felt as if he was loved, truly loved. Perhaps it was nothing but a fantasy, but he would endure. As long as he did not lose Eddie, he would endure any stabbing or beating of his heart.

“I don’t think he likes that very much, Beverly.” Stan said, cocking up an eyebrow. “What did I miss?”

“Okay so first of all, don’t even mention that you heard that, yeah?” Richie muttered, looking from Stan to Beverly until both of them nodded their agreement. 

“Cool. On to the sad shit, then. Eddie’s been having panic attacks since Neibolt, I think. He told me he had them a long time, the first one I saw was when we were fourteen, figured it started about then. Sometimes he gets out easily, sometimes he passes out. It sucks. No, there’s nothing we can do about it. No, he doesn’t want others to know. No, I don’t know what triggers him into these because that always changes. And  _ yes _ , he called me Chee. I dunno, it’s kinda cute? He does it sometimes, when it’s just the two of us. Who am I to say no? I’m a selfish man.”

Beverly gave him a soft smile and nodded for him to continue, he noticed. It was a kind gesture of hers, but it wasn’t as if he was stopping now. This was the first time in years he got to discuss this with somebody that was not Eddie himself. It felt liberating. Finally one more secret that he did not have to keep all to himself.

“After a few of those attacks we started looking for shit to help him through them. And one of them is the tapping. There’s like, five taps with one finger to help him breathe in, and five taps with another finger to breathe out. If he follows that it usually helps him to get back before he passes out. If that happens you just lay him on his side and stick around till he comes back. But usually it doesn’t get that far, thank fuck. Once he’s a bit more back to himself I usually just put up some videos on the ‘Tube, because those don’t make him think. If he pulls back into his thoughts he’ll just shoot back into a panic, and that ain’t a fun disco to be in.”

Stan snorted, shaking his head slightly. He looked expectantly from Richie to Eddie, waving his hand in a slight fit of impatience. 

“And you seriously do  _ not  _ believe me when I tell you that he likes you as well. Come on, Richard. You are not  _ that  _ blind.”

“STANLEY!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and summary are from the poem called "Everything that isn't", I sadly could not find a name of the author.


	8. Debilitating heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one homesick for not my house, but for the person that broke me?  
My lip twitches as sentimental recollections start to overflow and spill,   
creating a puddle of emptiness, longing, and heartbreak.  
Debilitating heartache.

“Do not ‘Stanley’ me, young man.” Stan raised his finger while saying it, as a true Dad. “What I see here in front of me is you, holding the raging ball of energy that normally is Edward Kaspbrak, after he apparently had a panic attack. We all know Eddie is much like me, and we do not share emotions. Which he seems to have actually done with you, of all people. And you are telling me that there is no way on earth that he’s as much interested in you, as you are in him? Who are you trying to fool here, Rich.”

“Rich, I think he’s right.”

Richie looked up at Beverly, trying to shoot her a look to convey that he did not want to discuss this right now. It wasn’t supposed to be about  _ him _ . Eddie here, sweet and precious Eddie, was the one that needed help. The last few days felt as if the fire had left their beloved hothead, leaving behind an empty shell of what was supposed to be their best friend.

“Just let me take care of him, please.” He asked, pleaded even. This was  _ not _ the time.

Stan sighed, mulling it over in his thoughts, but seemed to finally accept Richie’s request. The curly-haired boy rolled to the side and stood up, extending his hand to Beverly. With some help, she moved off of the bed in a more graceful manner than he had done. 

“Don’t think our conversation is done now, Rich. And talk to Bill.”

With that, he pulled Beverly out of the room with him, not allowing the girl to interject any words of her own. She gave a wave though, accompanied by a big grin.

_ Click. _

_ Silence. _

A heartbeat later, Richie moved. Careful hands manoeuvred Eddie to follow him, until they were laying down. Richie on his back, looking up at the ceiling, with his friend curled up into his side. He was thankful that it was his right side, worried that the loud beating of his heart would wake Eddie up again. And as he lay there, there was enough time to think this morning over. To think about Eddie, their friendship, the possibilities that love could bring to them. What it would change for the dynamic between the Losers. What would their families say? Sure, it was allowed to be with another man these days, but that did not mean everybody would accept it. Would he still be friends with Eddie if his love was nothing if not one-sided? Or would the group be disbanded, because two of their prominent members had fallen out. They had fallen out before, years ago. It had been such a strugglin time for Richie, not having his full group of friends around him had hurt more than he let on.

And what would they do with college? Richie knew what path he wanted to take, now that high school was ending. He had already been setting up some plans to be moving near the end of the summer, looking for housing near his college and checking for job offers. 

What was Eddie himself going to do? 

All other Losers had discussed their plans, had even gone as far to try and get into their preferred colleges, but near one another - to make the transition into adulthood more fun and comfortable. Eddie had always been quiet, talking about his ma wanting him to do this or that, but never sharing concrete plans. Never sharing which colleges he applied to, got accepted in, or rejected from. Even when Richie came over, proudly showing off his own acceptance letter, Eddie had not said a word about himself.

It was in this moment, with the love of his life pressed against him, that Richie managed to feel more lonely than he had ever felt before. For he had come to a realisation that hit him like a truck.

**He was going to leave Derry, and he had no idea if Eddie would follow.**

  
  


The mobile phone was in his hand before he realised, arm bent awkwardly to type with his right hand as well as holding Eddie close to himself. It would have to do, for now.

**Richie:** _Has Eds told you where he goes to college?!??!_

  
**Stan the Man:** _No. I take it he has not told you either, then. Why this?_

**Stan the Man:** _Are you still in there?_

** _Richie sent a picture._ **

**Richie:** _Obviously, see? All cuddled up. He’s v warm ^^_

**Stan the Man:** _Why am I not surprised. And you are messaging me, why, exactly?_

**Richie:** _To ask where he’s off to college to! Its important!_

**Stan the Man:** _Why don’t you ask him yourself, once he wakes up._

**Richie:** _Because he never answers, duh. Ask the others._

**Stan the Man:** _… I see your point. You still failed to tell me why this is important right now._

**Richie:** _What if Eds doesn’t go with me :( OR what if he’s goin’ to the other side of the country?! I can't live with that Stan I can’t!_

**Stan the Man: ** _ You are being dramatic again. _

**Stan the Man: ** _ Go enjoy cuddling your not-boyfriend and stop harassing me. _

**Richie:** _You still love me though._

**Richie:** _Also he’s not into me like that. stop it_

  
  


** _Group Chat “Where’s Eddie?”_ **

**Stan the Man:** _Are Richie and Eddie dating?_

**Bev:** _Uh yea, lol?_

**Benny:** _Why are we typing in a chat when sitting next to each other?_

**Bev:** _Cause Richie’s not here??_

  
**Benny:** _Oh, right. Where’s Richie, anyways?_

**Bev: ** _ With his bae, obv ;) _

**Stan the Man:** _ @Richie See. _

**Richie:** _ stfu. _

**Big Bill:** _Wait, you two aren’t?? The fuck man? Could’ve fooled me._

**Richie:** _He ain’t gay?? _

**Mike:** _Did he stutter?_

**Bev:** _HAHAHA._

**Benny:** _It’s clear that you like him, right Richie? _

**Richie:** _I mean yea? But fuck I’m not gonna act on that. He just lost his ma! And Stan, stfu. All I wanted to know is if he’s goin’ to college_

**Big Bill:** _You’re just trying to change the subject, right?_

**Richie: ** _ Yup :D _

**Bev:** _Boo, you whore._

**Stan the Man:** _Loser._

**Richie: ** _ >:( _

**Benny:** _Eddie’s going to college, he told me. I don’t know which one though. He was very excited!_

**Stan:** _That was unexpected. Richie and I were under the impression that nobody knew, since Eddie deflects all questions aimed at him._

**Richie: ** _ WHAT?! He talks to u, Ben? No off but come on! _

**Benny:** _He doesn’t talk to you? You’d think he tells you everything_

**Stan the Man:** _As I told you before, talk to Eddie. Shaking my head. _

**Mike:** _ Stan, don’t. _

**Bev:** _No no no he’s gotta cuddle his mans rn!! Enjoy Richie <3_

**Richie:** _<3_

  
  


Richie grinned at the phone for a moment, then closed it and threw it aside. He would find the damned thing again on the ground, most likely. Eddie was still curled into him, though he had shifted. An arm was wrapped around Richie’s torso and Eddie’s right leg was somewhere in between Richie’s own. It seemed that while he had been focussing on texts, Eddie had just gone and made himself more comfortable.

It was fine. 

It was  _ good _ . 

It was only temporary.

  
  


He had to really get that in his mind, soon. Eddie was too good for him, he knew that. He wasn’t stupid - even if most seemed to have that assumption about him.

Richie knew that Eddie would go out and find himself a good life. He would go to a prestigious university, studying something _boring_, but safe. Perhaps he would find a girlfriend for himself there, equally smart and boring. They would move in together, get married, a child or two. Eddie’s life was going to be a picture perfect one.   
Richie had no part in that.

After all, who would want a Trashmouth? He wanted to be a comedian, which is fun, but paying bills is tough if you haven’t made it to celebrity status.

He too, could find a wife and settle down, if he wanted to. Richie knew that he liked both girls and boys. But his heart had been set on one particular guy for too long now, he could never love another person as much as he loved Eddie.

It would be unfair to them.

Richie sighed, reaching out to gently touch his friend. His hair was soft as always, sticking up at odd angles due to light ruffles of Richie’s hand. He did that again, ruffling through it. Eddie’s hair looked better when it was in its natural state, not combed down and slicked up with whatever gel was deemed ‘good enough’. 

He truly was so  _ gone  _ for this boy. It was only a matter of time before his heart would be broken. A heartache like he would never experience again. 

And even with all of this knowledge, Richie knew that he would be there for Eddie until the very end. He would pick him up, build him from scratch if he had to. Eddie was the drug he craved even before he knew what nicotine was. Eddie was the oxygen that coursed through his veins, that brought life and warmth to his body. It was a soothing thought, yet a deadly force that could strangle him at will, too. Perhaps there was such a thing as soulmates, if there was he knew that Eddie was his. But was  _ he  _ Eddie’s? 

Richie continuously feared the day that he would be cast aside, as a broken toy abandoned by it’s toddler. 

  
  


Who would come pick up his shattered pieces?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is called "Debilitating Heartache" by Elizabeth Zenk.


End file.
